


The Hollow Man

by scribensdracones



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Angst, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Rivalry Romance, Templar Hawke, dubcon, long first chapter, rather slow buildup
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-11 22:38:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3335369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribensdracones/pseuds/scribensdracones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders falls madly in love with Hawke- against his better judgement. The templars keep closing in on him. Hawke hunts the mages relentlessly. His friends start turning away from him - and while Anders loses all hope and only finds comfort in Justice and his manifesto, he realizes that some things are greater than all that remains to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stumbled Beginnings

Some men have doom following them like a shadow. They stand in the center of the storm, unharmed while everything around them is devastated with the raw force of their mere presence. Some people are doomed and some people doom others. He always considered himself to belong to the first group, those who would always struggle and always fail in the end. It never stopped him from trying anyways. Erwin Hawke was a formidable example for the second type of person- the one who destroyed everyone around him. And no one minded. Bewitched by irresistible charisma, they wandered into the inevitable doom like blinded sheep. He sure did, Anders mused. At all points of their relationship, he’d been perfectly aware of the fact that this end was inevitable. And yet he felt a certain grief, now that the tip of his feather scratched against the parchment. Tomorrow, he would finish it. Tomorrow, Erwin’s sword would chop the head off his shoulders. Or maybe he would have Fenris rip out his heart and devour it… no, that’s something a demon would do. Erwin was a monster, but a monster of a worse kind than the ones lurking in the shadows. ‘I am sorry for failing’, he wrote, then crossed it out with metal scratching on parchment. A gift from Erwin, just another attempt at appeasing his partner. But Hawke should know by now that Anders cared little for material possessions… The mage sighed bitterly and glanced over to the bed and fondly remembered times when this room had not felt cold. Times when his chest had not felt empty and times when he thought that maybe everything could be… allright. One day. Maybe.

 

They met on a rainy autumn day six years ago. That day, already as early as from the moment he woke, he felt ill at ease. Restless, his mind in a constant state of disquiet, and all thoughts wandered and strayed to his plans for the evening. Karl… He'd planned everything with greatest care and yet he felt  anxious. Couldn’t wait to see him again and yet felt like delaying everything as much as possible. No. He had to get him out of there. A blur of patients, short breaks, downed mana potions, more patients treated. Until the four armed individuals entered his clinic. He could already hear the clink of heavy armor, but templars never got down here on their own. And someone would have warned him. What else would get armed individuals to his clinic? More thieves? More thugs from the Carta coming to pester him and his patients? Forcing his simmering anger down, he reached out for his staff. “I have made this place a sanctum of healing and salvation, why do you threaten it?”

He first noticed the man in heavy armor, tall and strong, blond hair parted neatly. A dwarf, he first noticed the astonishing lack of beard, then the crossbow. A woman, red-haired and in the armor of the cityguard, the templar's flame drawn on her shield. Anders resisted the natural instinct to take a step back. A girl, dark-haired, the staff she had with her was impossible to miss. The blond one took up speech, his voice calmer than he'd have expected.

“I’m just here to talk… put that staff down.”

While Anders did not really obey this bold command, he did take a less militant stance while the blond man gestured to the dwarf as if handing him the current role of main speaker. So they did not just come here to have some wounds patched up and Anders listened with the hint of a frown on his face.Deep Roads… Oh Maker, no. Now he felt convinced that the Wardens sent these people. Track him down, make sure they got the right one and then drag him back to Amaranthine or somewhere else even more unpleasant.  But wouldn't it be beautiful to have a home again? No. He couldn't let himself start thinking that way. Or he would end up missing it.Expedition to the Deep Roads, he couldn't let himself just let his thoughts stray like that. Didn't someone mention it lately? Wanted to join up, make good coin. He remembered trying to talk the man out of this idea. Why would any sane person want to go down into the Deep Roads anyway?

He nearly ended up sending them away- but he had a better idea. “I have no interest in having anything to do with the Deep Roads, really, but... I think we could strike a deal.” Something about that Hawke made him uncomfortable and he crossed his arms. Stay cool. His companions sure did seem alright enough, but the impenetrable stare of those blue eyes made him feel oddly exposed. Focus.

“You help me, I help you, sounds like a fair deal, doesn't it?”  
“Alright then.”  
“You don't even ask what I want of you? For all you know I could ask for the Grand Cleric's head or something.”

“Well, do you want her head?” Hawke crossed the massive arms in front of his chest and Anders frowned. Right now, he could even imagine him walking right into the chantry and leaving it with the severed head of Elthina. What a thought, really. However, the mage shook his head anyways. No use for senseless murder. There were more pressing matters at hand. 

“I have arranged a meeting with a friend,” he started and took a few more steps away from the group of four, all eyes on him. They listened, and, more importantly, they might be willing to help. If everything went according to plan, their presence would not be needed. But Anders had learned to trust his instincts- and something deep inside of him was deeply worried. Maybe he would feel more at ease knowing that such an armed bear of a man like Hawke would be there to interfere in case something went wrong. 

“He's a mage in the circle here in Kirkwall. It's getting dire- I'm getting him out of there. We meet tonight in the chantry. If everything goes right....”  
“... you won't need us. But you think that something could go wrong?”, Hawke finished the sentence for him and tilted his head, arms still crossed. Anders nodded in agreement. Simple matter, really. 

“You want to help a mage to escape the circle?”, the redhead suddenly asked, after having been silent for the entire conversation. Hawke turned his intense glare away from Anders and now focused on his companion in guard's attire. “We need the map to the deep roads, Aveline. The templars will take care of it... don't look at me like I'm going to run off and sell you and your friend out to them right away, apostate.”

Anders bit his lip and nodded. No one could be trusted, and he was really not sure whether this was a good idea in any way. But he was equally sure that he wouldn't run into anyone who would do this for free either. No one who looked like they knew what they were doing with the weapons they carried around. "Under one condition. This will not be taken to the templars- Maker knows what they will do to him. I hear it every day, rules getting stricter, the surveillance near constant..."  
It was easier to ignore Hawke's intense stare when talking about something that was really important, something that occupied his mind fully. Karl, the templars, the circles. Just for being... born that way. "... this is a terrible injustice, to be robbed of all freedom just like that."

"I see. You think mages should all be free instead?" Something about Hawke's words sounded threatening, but maybe he just imagined things. The warrior's posture relaxed after an initial tension of massive muscles. "I will not speak out on this topic now. I will see you at sunset at the Main Entrance to the Chantry." 

They did meet at the chantry at sunset- but it was a disaster. All adventurous scenarios he'd imagined, running off with Karl, starting a new life, a new clinic in another city, maybe even make it to Rivain or Tevinter... it was all shattered the second he saw the flaming sun of Andraste burned into Karl's forehead. He had hoped until the moment he saw into those empty eyes. Hoped for a chance to find this old love again, childish, sweet and innocent, memories of wet, sloppy kisses under blankets, gentle pecks when no one was nearby in the library, secretive glanced at each other when they were supposed to pray to Andraste and the Maker. It was all dead now, the blood of a friend and lover on the blade of his dagger, lying next to the corpse back on the chantry floor, next to the corpses of numerous templars who had fallen that evening. He hoped to find peace back in his clinic and he inhaled shakily once he entered the familiar room where he treated the poor and the sick of Darktown. But he was not to find the much-needed solitude, no time to mourn, he could hear their steps, but reacted too late. A steel-clad hand on his shoulder, an iron grip that forced him to turn around, he felt too exhausted to protest. Of course. Hawke who had helped him to fight off the templars. His glare was difficult to read and Anders tried to take a step away. 

“What was that back in the chantry?”, Erwin inquired harshly, released his grip on Anders' shoulder immediately and took a step back. Justice. In that second... his soul had been in a terrible turmoil. The templars, Karl, tranquil and a traitor... and so he did the only thing that seemed right: fight for his freedom. Death before defeat, or something along those lines the Warden-Commander once said to him. So he fought, his deep rage fueled into a wildfire by the past few minutes that all crashed down on him like stormy waves. Anders bit his lip, hesitant, not sure about how he was supposed to explain, not even sure whether to tell the truth at all. But no, he was no liar, he told himself, and so he decided that it would be wisest to go for honesty with a man like Erwin. It seemed to him like this would be the safest bet. And indeed, while the blond's face darkened with every single sentence, Anders felt like he had some level of understanding for his actions. Or maybe not. His face was nearly impossible to read, a feature that caused him some measure of discomfort. 

“So you're an abomination,” Erwin finally concluded with a critical frown. No differences made between spirits and demons, but Anders supposed that he was in no place to expect much more. Now that he'd said it out loud... Some part of him was reluctant to acknowledge that Hawke was, in some way, sort of right. Justice was not... Justice anymore, and he wondered whether Justice and Anders truly still existed as separate entities. Maybe they formed something new together. And still, the Warden shook his head. “No, not... an abomination. I can control it,” he insisted, but Hawke still looked inconvinced, his gaze still doubtful. Anders always felt uncomfortable with people of his kind knowing of his whereabouts. Those were the ones who could easily decide that it was best to just go and tell the templars...

“I see. And the maps? I need the maps. You know what? Come and see me in the Hanged Man tomorrow evening, Varric sure's going to want to see them too. Half eight, and don't be late.”


	2. A quiet evening

The Hanged Man was always busy in the evenings. Erwin threw a quick glance towards the counter where he saw Isabela at her usual spot. A quick nod- a silent invitation to follow. They met a few days ago, quite an... individual, one could say. She fit here, in this messy place that always reeked of sweat, stale ale and cheap wine. He made his way upstairs, right into Varric's suite where he already found most of their bunch of misfits assembled. Bethany who spent the entire day at home, Merrill who listened to Varric's stories with wide eyes, Fenris who chose to brood in a corner. But at least he got himself to actually leave the desolate mansion. Aveline already announced she wouldn't have time this week. Some part of Erwin already looked forward to her meeting Isabela. The two women couldn't be any more different, it seemed. 

Hawke sat down next to Fenris after a quick greeting. He rather prefered to just observe their friendly interactions, rather than get actively involved with anything. He was not particularly fond of gambling and neither did he really enjoy beer and ale in abundance. Not chatty, not gossipy. He'd heard often enough that he was a terribly boring man. But it was alright... at least someone here had to keep a cool head at all times. 

While the merry group of more-or-less-friends was about to choose a nice activity for the evening, Anders entered the inn, feeling uncomfortable and empty. Karl... He couldn't forget the emptiness in his eyes and the void in his voice. The way he'd implored him to take his life... How could any man just forget about that? He'd left his staff in the clinic, deciding that it was too much of a risk to run through the streets with it while not expecting any major trouble. This was just a visit to the Hanged Man. Anders stood there, feeling a little lost, not sure whether he was maybe too early now. But then he spotted Hawke, descending the stairs, exchanging a couple of words with a woman in surprisingly little clothing. The maps. His hands went up to the pocket where he had them, carelessly folded in a time when he used to be a far less serious man. 

“Good evening, Anders.” Hawke stopped right in front of him, a bit taller, broader, even without his heavy armor. Actually, he looked quite handsome... The healer forced himself to smile, it turned out rather cramped. “Good evening, Hawke. I got the..”  
“Good, but not here,” Erwin interrupted him and made a single gesture to follow. They went back upstairs where he spotted the dwarf and the dark-haired girl again. And an elf was with them too, as well as that woman in skimpy clothing. 

“This is Anders and he got the maps to the deep road entrances in the Marches,” Erwin declared and already sat down on the nearest chair with a pint of ale in his hand. Anders noticed how it was pretty much still full, but the evening was still young, as some people would put it. They all gathered around the table on which he spread out the map. The entire discussion took about half an hour, then Varric took the maps and locked them away. Everyone got back to their beer and he felt a hand on his shoulder. The beardless dwarf. “You look like you could use a drink. Are you alright?” He was probably referencing what happened yesterday... Anders just nodded absent-mindedly. He felt Hawke staring at him. Those blue eyes, so cold, they seemed to penetrate his skin, his bones, to stare right into his core. He didn't like having people stare at him like that. Calculating and somewhat distrustful. 

He was seated between Varric and this woman named Isabella, a beer in front of him, the two of them playing cards against Bethany and an elven girl named Merrill who was apparently a mage as well and from a Dalish clan. New to town. The white-haired elf, his name was Fenris, just sat next to Hawke. The elf was brooding, Hawke was just quietly staring at them and finally rose from his chair to saunter over to their table. His hands rested on the wood of the plate.

“I've been thinking about the situation with the templars, seeing as we have three apostates here, right now,” he declared and Anders shifted in visible discomfort. Bethany groaned in annoyance. “Erwin, won't you please stop lecturing us all?” His glare silenced her down right away and Anders had to admit that he sure was good at staring people down. “Bethany, Merrill, I want you two to not use any magic outside home, and even when at home, avoid it at all costs. Do not walk around with your staffs- that couldn't be much more suspicious. And you, Anders...” He finally looked at him directly. “I understand you can't just not use magic anymore in your clinic... but I advise you too leave your staff at home.” 

Anders frowned. “You want us to hide?” But of course, as if there was anything else one could do in a city full of templars. Hawke pulled a chair closer and sat down, apparently willing to talk about the topic of mages this time. Yesterday, he'd just... cut it off. 

“Yes, that's exactly what I want. If the three of you are already refusing to surrender yourselves to the circles... then stay safe at least.” Bethany frowned in some measure of discomfort. The merry mood was certainly ruined for now. What must it be like, to live with someone who was like.. that? He seemed cold, distant, and he suddenly stood up again. 

“Anders, I want to have a word with you in private.”


	3. A Chance for Cooperation

_Anders. I want to have a word with you in private_. The healer sat perched between a dwarf named Varric and that sweet magegirl Bethany when her less sweet brother decided he wanted to talk to him. Anders swallowed and his eyes followed the surprisingly graceful movements of the tall man. Even though he'd rather stay here and sip the beer that had been ordered for him, he found himself standing up to follow Erwin. It felt as if it was best not to get on this man's bad side and so he just decided to obey, feeling an impatient annoyance that was not his own. While Justice never thought or spoke to him directly, he was perfectly aware of the spirit, even though not exactly sure about the blurred lines between them. 

They left Varric's suite and Erwin led him into a smaller, empty room. Anders entered first, heard the door closing behind them. No key, though. He heard Hawke's footsteps, then silence. Slowly, he turned around to face Hawke who now sat on a chair by the small table next to the dusty window. He was handsome. Ice blue eyes, neatly parted, blond hair. A rather sharp nose, a strong jaw, a full, albeit serious mouth. No matter how intimidating Erwin Hawke might be, he was still a very attractive man too. 

“I'll be straightforward with you,” Hawke started and gestured for Anders to sit down on the other chair and, to his own surprise, Anders already found himself sitting before he could consciously decide to do so.

“I am looking for someone to take on this expedition to the deep roads. And I want you to follow along- even if mages are dangerous, their power is not to be underestimated. Besides, you have both experience in dealing with the Deep Roads as well as the ability to sense the Darkspawn coming. Before you start protesting- there's gold in it, a lot. And the way I see it, it would be quite good for an overt apostate to be out of town for a while.”

Anders frowned. Hawke made valid points- and yet it was about going down into the Deep Roads. He was not sure whether he would be able to ever forget the horrors down there. “If I wanted gold, Hawke, then I am certainly in the wrong place.” A healer in Darktown, one who owned pretty much nothing. But maybe... He bit his lip. “I refuse to decide right away,” he finally said, thinking that this sounded well enough. Neither refusal, nor agreement.  
Erwin just nodded. “Of course... maybe we should _get to know each other_ a little more. You know, I wouldn't mind you coming along when business leads me to Darktown our out of the city... there's a way to leave the city through Darktown, isn't there?”  
Anders nodded. “What kind of business?”

“This and that.” Erwin shrugged. “I got to raise 50 sovereigns to get into that bloody expedition. But there are enough people in this city who can't handle their own problems. Next question, is it alright if I keep Bethany's staff in your clinic? And Merrill's too, while I'm at it. That girl would certainly run with it through town just because she's used to having it with her. So they can still come with us once in a while.”

Anders frowned. If he agreed, he'd be actively supporting Hawke in the oppression of mages. His own sister, even! And yet he could understand why he didn't want either of them to run around with their staff. The healer exhaled slowly. He really didn't like this and yet he nodded. “Alright. If you ever... need some wounds patched up, you know where to find me, I suppose.” Not that it made him very comfortable, but he already accepted that Erwin had this effect on him. A deep discomfort.  
Suddenly, the expression on the warrior's face shifted and, for the first time since he saw him for the first time, a smile appeared on his face. And even if it looked out of place there, he smiled, his hand extended towards him. “I'm looking forward to our cooperation then, Anders.”

The apostate stared at the offered hand for some seconds, hesitated, then forced himself to smile as well and took it, deciding not to refuse this friendly gesture. 

“So do I,” he mumbled, not really sure whether he meant it or not.

_____________  
_”Carver! Carver!” But he wouldn't answer anymore. Blood dripping off his blade, his mother's cries mingled with Bethany's low sobbing and Ser Wesley's heavy breathing. How come everything just... fell apart? First, Ostagar, and now Lothering... He slowly stepped over to his mother who held her younger son under relentless sobbing. But they had no time... how long until the Darkspawn returned? How long until they would follow him? Bethany knelt by her mother's side, weeping for her twin brother._

_“Mother,” Erwin started, his sword still in his hand. He never wanted his mother or his sister to go through this hell. If Carver only.. He felt cold anger boiling up inside. If this stupid idiot didn't charge ahead, then he.... No. He couldn't allow himself to go weak now, not when everyone else was being weak already. “Mother, we must go on,” he stated firmly, his hand on her shoulder, leaving an ugly bloodstain she didn't care about._

_“My boy,” Leandra whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. It tore his heart apart and he bit down any further comment and any emotion. His brother was dead, but soon enough they would all die too, if they did not continue. If he did not push them. “We're all going to die here.” He took Bethany by the upper arm, pulled her up, not quite willing to use the same raw force on his mother who still clung to Carver's broken body._

_“We _must_ go on,” he insisted a third time._


	4. He is not a stone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the long timeout, I will admit that I have been feeling very discouraged by the lack of recognition/feedback but you know, started a thing, might as well finish it for the few who do read along!

In the weeks following up on that temporary agreement between him and Erwin Hawke, Anders got to know the blond man much better- not that it helped his understanding of him. How could anyone describe a man like Erwin?

  
Anders learned that his hair was never messy and always neatly parted on the right. He woke up at sunset and expected many of his comrades to do so as well, for he scheduled his days to be busy. If there was one thing Erwin was particularly good at, it was staring people down and intimidating them (and Anders had to admit that he belonged to those people who purposefully avoided vexing him, even if for reasons beyond his wish to avoid direct contact with his fists). Erwin was absolutely convinced of both his intellectual and physical abilities and Anders never observed him flinching at something or someone. Not even when they were attacked by young dragons in that terrible mine. He thought he could hold him, Merrill and Bethany in check and that was about the only reason why he didn't turn them over to the templars and while Anders appreciated not being sold out to the templars, he could only frown at such arrogance. He saw himself as a leader and no one questioned this authority. Everyone seemed to magically bow to it and it was annoying but as soon as he was around that terrible man he found himself unable to resist the urge to just obey, albeit reluctantly.

Anders got to see Erwin quite frequently- be it a wound that needed to be stitched together or his assistance on a contract outside the oppressive walls of Kirkwall. Sometimes he took Merrill or Bethany whose staves he kept at his clinic. He did so especially on days when Anders was too busy to leave the clinic to wander off on adventures. He also saw him nearly each Tuesday when the small group that had formed around the Hawke siblings met in Varric's rooms at the Hanged Man. While Anders didn't always have time, he made sure to come regularly, having some company was.. pleasant, even though he couldn't say he was particularly close to anyone. Varric and Bethany were a delight to have around, the rest.... tolerable, if it meant he got to spend some time among people.  
Another dull day in the clinic. Everything blurred together into one patient after another, interrupted by a mana potion downed. Ever since he had Hawke around, he never lacked materials or mana potions. He got to keep a share of what they found on their little adventures. Another undeniable amelioration must be the fact that the troubles with gangs, thugs and other organizations has stopped, all of a sudden, and he was pretty certain Varric was involved in this.

“Anders.”

The mage stopped, his hand on the cork of the small mana potion. By now, the sight of Erwin in his massive armour was already so familiar that it was a surprise to see him in casual clothing apart from the evenings in the Hanged Man. He must have come to talk... some part of him was nervous because Erwin was no man for idle social chatter. No. No need to paint the devil on the wall right away. Maybe it was indeed just a little visit out of politeness?  
“I got the money,” Hawke declared right away, arms crossed in front of his broad chest as he stopped right in front of Anders. The mage never seemed relaxed in his presence- but he could see the way he joked with Bethany and Varric. Isabela, even. Erwin was aware of the uneasiness he caused some people even though he never addressed it. If they feared him- even better. Anders should know that they weren't really friends. Only acquaintances who kept having contact because of the mutual benefits that stemmed from this relationship.

  
“Congratulations,” Anders replied idly, sounding quite non-involved at these news although he most certainly should know what Erwin meant to ask next.  
“Do you remember our conversation in the Hanged Man a few weeks ago?”

Anders nodded reluctantly and gestured for Erwin to follow him to somewhere a little more private- even if it was only the back of the clinic, out of the hearing range of the other patients. “You wanted me to join you in the expedition,” the healer stated dryly.

“Yes. Are you still sure you don't want to come with us? You could use the money. Besides, spending a while out of town... do I really need to start on that again? You should be aware of that.”

The Warden gnashed his teeth in silent anger at this comment. No need to remind him of the fact that he was an apostate in a city full of templars. And sympathizers. Instead of any reproaches, he just shook his head energically. “No, my answer is still the same. There is no way I would agree to ever set a foot in the Deep Roads. I'm done with that. Go and look for another warden if you really want one to come with you. Besides, Merrill is good as well with doing damage. And I taught Bethany some healing spells, she can do.”  
  
Something about Erwin's facial expression and posture changed. Hardened and stiffed the way it always did whenever someone said something that did not please him. But this time was different- he did not just look displeased but genuinely upset and it was a highly unusual sight for Anders and caused him some sort of silent unease.

“I can't take Merrill. Do you really think she could deal with it? Sure, she got some nerves and throws fireballs well, but...” Erwin made an idle gesture and Anders just nodded understandingly. They both seemed to agree on the belief that Merrill was simply not made for these confined spaces, the constant danger and the long darkness.

“And I can't take Bethany either, because...” Erwin stopped mid-sentence and something about his stance grew more... reclusive, even a bit defensive. Ah! A weak spot. While Anders was no one to take advantage of people's weaknesses, it was too much of an occasion. Up to now, Erwin successfully pretended to be some sort of stone or steel, devoid of all emotion and without no boundaries at all. Yet the way he looked right now... there was more to it, he could tell.

“Is it because of Carver?”, Anders asked right away. Of course, Bethany had told him. Erwin never spoke about his family, his life before, or anything that would have given him an ounce of distinct personality. Anything that would have made him seem more... human.

Erwin's pale blue eyes widened marginally, but enough for Anders to notice. His jaw tensed, his fingers moved slightly and he clenched his hands to fists the way he always did when he sought to maintain his stoic calm.

“You know, in case you did not notice yet, I don't really like talking about what happened,” Erwin started and exhaled in a nearly frustrated huff. He did not seem to be angry with him, which was a relief to Anders. “I don't want to lose her too, Anders. And I can't do that to mother. You know, I am not made of stone either.” Hawke took a step away from the mage. “I cannot keep a clear head and watch out for both myself _and_ her. I promised myself I would protect Bethany- and you should know by now that I take my promises very seriously.”

Anders bit the inner of his cheek and just shook his head. "I'm sorry, Erwin. I can't. I won't. It's best if you..." He made an idle gesture, not really sure what to say. Was there any good recommendation? He would rather not be held responsible for any negative consequences that might follow if Erwin listened to his half-hearted advice. "Sorry, but... we aren't anywhere good enough friends for me to do that. I am sure you will manage on your own."

Erwin stared at him for some seconds and Anders was not sure whether the warrior was angry or not. "Goodbye, Anders." These were his last, coldly spoken words and Anders muttered a low "Good luck, Hawke," and knew deep inside that he would regret this one way or another- sooner or later. 

 

 


	5. on being a little Sister

“That's unfair! _Mother_ , say something!” This conversation was both exceptional and very ordinary for the Hawkes. Carver or Erwin said something, Bethany protested, asked for motherly intervention, all attempts at appeasement failed, it went on and on until someone [Bethany] cried or someone [Carver] decided to just leave the house for a walk. Some people [Erwin] were, however, categorically unable to step down from their point, which would always reduce the only possible outcome to any combination of Bethany crying, Bethany agreeing, Bethany leaving the house for a few hours. Sometimes she said she hated him, sometimes she didn't talk to him for days, but ultimately, he would, under Leandra's pressure, apologize and seek reconciliation. Not without still insisting on whatever point he'd been arguing for in the first place.

This time, they did not argue about Bethany being out in the tavern until the late evening, or about one of them catching her kissing a local farmer's son in the barn or any other trivial matter. The conflict of interests was a very simple one: Bethany wanted to join the expedition into the Deep Roads, not only to evade the templars for some weeks, but also because she felt like it was time to become more than just the little apostate sister who was to be protected and sheltered at all cost. 

However, this wish was in conflict with Erwin's main interest of keeping his little sister safe. Discarded as a childish way to prove herself to her overly worried mother and her strict brother. Down in the Deep Roads, there was no way of watching out for her at all times and the oldest of the Hawke Siblings was determined not to lose someone important _again_. Leandra's position was a simple one: neither of her precious children should go.  
  
“Bethany, Lirene would give you work at _Ferleden Imports_ if you asked. That's honest and safe work. And you, Erwin. Aveline would surely be able to get you a place with the city guards. That is respectable and good too. We would get by just fine and no one would have to risk their lives.”  
  
Erwin sighed in exasperation. So it started again.. “Mother, I have fought Darkspawn before. It's nothing I couldn't handle. Look, if this expedition fails... I will go straight up to Aveline and talk to her, alright? With her being promoted to Captain of the Guard, it surely won't be much trouble. I promise. If this expedition is no success, I will join the guards.”  
Of course, Leandra was not happy with his sloppy compromise- and yet she just nodded, knowing her son better than trying to push even further. As bull-headed as his father, she thought to herself.

________

  
“He's such an _asshole_!” Bethan kicked a nearby crate and cussed lowly because the impact hurt more than she thought. A chuckle could be heard from the corner. Isabela lounged comfortably on one of the probably empty barrels. The former pirate always had a keen eye for Bethany's mood and so she pulled her upstairs and into one of the storage rooms of the Hanged Man once she spotted the apostate. Sometimes it was best to just listen and nod in a while. Most problems sorted themselves out this way.

  
“I mean, he joined the army when he was eighteen! Carver signed up for the war against the Blight too even though we're the same age!” Bethany threw her hands up towards the ceiling in exasperation. “I could set this entire place on fire with the flick of a wrist and he and mom still think I'm a little girl who must be looked after all the time!”  
  
Isabela chuckled at the thought and decided that she should probably throw in her two pences before Bethany came to the conclusion that she should set something on fire to make a point.  
  
“Listen up and well, because I'll tell you something very important 'bout men in general. Contrary to everything people try to tell you, men are very illogical and unreasonable people. Men need to feel superior, men need to feel needed, men need to act up like the big, heroic protector of the damsel in distress. You know what will piss them off? Finding out that their damsells in distress actually don't need rescue, or at least not from them. If you want to annoy a man, then sure, go ahead and show him you're not a little girl who needs some strong arms wrapped 'round her. If you want to limit trouble to a minimum, just smile and nod and let them believe they're the best. Whether you believe it or not, Erwin's a man too and therefore just as primitive and narrow-minded as the majority of them.”  
  
Bethany huffed. “Do you even listen to yourself? I can't just knuckle down my whole life to avoid arguing with Erwin.”  
Isabela's smile widened. “Ah, ah, that's not what I said. It's enough to make them _believe_ you yield. When the cat's away, the mice will play. I suggest you enjoy some Erwin-free weeks while we are gone underground and the stress for you will be reduced to a minimum.”  
  
The thought of staying in Kirkwall did not seem as bad now. No 'Bethany put the staff away', no 'Bethany where have you been up until this late', no 'Bethany how often do I have to tell you: no magic in the house'.  

 

\-------------  
  
“You're not going either?”, Anders asked, sounding faintly surprised. Bethany had caught him in some idle minutes when no urgent matters required his attention. She was clearly the more pleasant Hawke sibling and yet he found himself sligthly disappointed that she'd come alone this time. Visits unrelated to anything medical were rare and so he offered some tea. Bethany declined, just as he expected.  
  
“I decided that there's no sense in trying to talk Erwin out of it,” Bethany said and sat down on a sligthly askew stool. “He's as stubborn as a bull. Also, he's taking Fenris with him, so the evenings will sure be more fun in the Hanged man.”  
Anders nodded absent-mindedly. Unless Erwin changed his mind last second, it would be down to Isabela and Fenris accompanying him and Varric. Those two didn't have anything better to do, after all. He, along with Bethany and Merrill, were out for various reasons. Aveline was far too busy to go absent for weeks.  


“Do you really want to go?”, Anders asked quietly, trying to arrange his workspace more neatly. In the rush of treatments, things always ended up in a mess.  
  
“Yes. This is my chance, Anders. And he wants to take it away from me. It's as if he's trying to cut off my wings completely. No magic, no freedom, just have me sit at home and _hide_. As if I were still a little girl...”  
“You know, I... don't blame him,” Anders admitted, not sure whether he was in a place to say such a thing or not. It was so.. private, after all, and he secretly cherished this moment of human vulnerability he got to see a few days ago. “Please, don't let anyone know I said any of this, but he told me about Carver. His methods may be wrong, but he doesn't do it out of.. malevolence. Erwin doesn't want to lose you too, now with your father, your home and your twin gone. His approach may be absolutely wrong, I agree, but at least he doesn't do it just to ire you... whatever comfort this may be to you.”  
  
Bethany went quiet for a few moments that slowly turned into minutes. “Can you talk to him? Please. I _must_ go. You said that I am a very capable mage. You taught me how to heal. You and Merrill both showed me so much about how to defend myself properly. I can do that... but Erwin won't see that. However, I think he.. respects you. Maybe he would listen to your word, then.”  
  
Anders hesitated and bit his lip. Respect.... He knew that two people did not have to agree to any opinions voiced in order to respect each other. A sigh. He would definitely regret that sooner or later.  
  
“Alright. I will drop by this evening and try talking to him. I don't promise anything, but... if you are so sure that you want to join, I will try talking to him and try to do my best.”

 

 

 


End file.
